


Practically Crawling

by LHasty



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft
Genre: F/M, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 15:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18391130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LHasty/pseuds/LHasty





	Practically Crawling

They didn't stand a chance. They didn't have a hope, a dream, a pot to piss in between them. 

They'd made a mistake. There were some things you just didn't do - some words you didn't utter in the company of men that weren't men, but the lurking madness beneath this hell hole they called a city. 

They'd made a mistake, you see - they'd made the wrong eyes in the wrong direction, looked at her in a way he didn't care for. Then he came to them, chomping at a bit between teeth that were like saw blades, spinning 'round and 'round in a circle without end. 

They'd touched his woman, his property. 

As he ripped another to small pieces, he reminded himself that he might want to make it permanent. No matter - not now. 

Nane had flattened herself against the alley wall, a space not quite right - nothing in this town agreed to the geometry and laws of physics that humans often took for granted. 

The alley wasn't quite an alley anymore - it was a five and half minute hallway of madness, a carnival ride gone horribly wrong. Now, all that really seemed to make sense was the thing that should not have been to begin with, the man - not man - that she curled up next to at night. 

The Pharaoh looked like the last bastion of some long lost civilization, save it wasn't time that had killed them all. She knew better, now. 

It had been him. 

He stood over the last, the last that even now couldn't run - could only hold up helpless hands while he gibbered and shrieked, laughed when he thought no one was looking. The madness had spread through him, making everything both beautiful and bile, ideas and thoughts that marched through him like the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade from Hell. 

Now, he had nothing left to live for. Now he had nothing left to give. 

The thing above him had taken it all away - snatched it from his grasp like a bully stealing sweets. 

Black eyes stared down at the sorry sack of shit that was supposed to be a man - it seemed more like swine to him, squealing a prayer to a God that wanted little to do with him. His gaze devoured him, leeching the sanity from him, sucking it down until the man made nothing more than a wet, sick sound as he gnawed off his own tongue. 

And then, only then, did the not-man turn his eyes on his bride, lips peeling away from the glorious white of his teeth, teeth that were too sharp for any mans mouth, and he extended a hand to her - dark like the desert sands he'd crawled out of. 

"Come," he told her, cooed and crooned, letting the words drip off the snake that served as his tongue. 

"Come back to me, where it is safe."


End file.
